


New Shoes

by WhisperArtist



Series: Newsies Ballet AU [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Author writes exclusively at 3am, Background Relationships, Ballet, Bloch, Freed of London, Friendship, Gen, Okay so technically it's midnight, Russian Pointe, Trans Racetrack Higgins, genderfluid smalls, no beta reader we die like men, trans tommy boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27910114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperArtist/pseuds/WhisperArtist
Summary: Sarah needs to break in her new pointe shoes and some of the boys stay behind with her.
Relationships: Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Smalls/Sniper (Newsies)
Series: Newsies Ballet AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043733
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	New Shoes

It was well past the time any student would be in school voluntarily. Most of the after school programs had finished up for the day, and the hallways were eerily quiet. A lot of the staff were finishing up some last-minute things before they headed home for the night. The only part of the school that was still active was the dance studios. Light filtered into the hallway from the first studio currently occupied by four older students in various states of dancing.

Two were sitting on the floor against the mirror, bags and water bottles out beside them. The third was at barre working through some warm-ups while the last was turning in the far corner away from everyone else. There wasn’t any set music, just some classical stuff playing in the background as the group worked on their own things. 

“What brand do you were?” One of the kids on the studio floor, Sarah asked. She watched the kid at the barre, Tommy Boy, as he carefully rolled up through demi to full pointe. The pair he was wearing was only two weeks old, but the satin was already dirty and pinched from extensive use. They were reaching the end of their life, and Sarah could tell it was only a matter of time before the shank gave way entirely. Tommy would do whatever he could to hold onto them for another week or two, though.

“Bloch Heritage,” he replied, rolling down just as slow. Sarah was in complete awe of his control. It was almost alien. “Had to wear strongs for a while, but I moved down a year or two ago.”

Sarah nodded, turning her own shoe in her hand. They were brand new, not even sewn yet. The boys agreed to stay behind with her so she could work them in a little bit before tomorrow’s class. She needed Tommy to help break the shank a bit anyway. She would probably have to darn the damn things too, which was an absolute pain in the ass.

“Let me guess,” Race piped up from his corner. He had been working on pirouettes and fouettes for the past fifteen minutes. Sarah would be puking at that point. Give her jumps any time of the week. She would rather do a long and torturous Grande Allegro than turn, especially for that long. “You wear Freed of London.”

Sarah blinked. “How did you know?”

“He didn’t,” Smalls said with an eye roll. “I said somethin’ yesterday. I know Freeds when I see ’em.”

“I wear Studio Professionals,” she said, handing Smalls one of her shoes. The other teen turned them in his hands carefully. 

“These are nice,” he said, flexing them a bit. “I might have to try these on next time I go for a fitting. I wear the Classic Pro 90s, but I’m thinking about trying something different.”

“Change to Russians,” Race said, falling out of a triple turn. He was being sloppy. The worst part was that even his sloppy turns were amazing. Buttons would have his head if he was here, regardless.

Smalls gave him a sour look. “They don’t fit my foot type, and you know it.”

“Excuses,” Race shot back casually. “Almaz is the best and I will not hear any slander against their name.” 

“You are the only person in the whole studio who wears Russians, Race,” Tommy Boy said with a huff. Sarah had to bite back a laugh at the look that crossed Race’s face. A full-on little kid pout. It was hilarious.

“At least I don’t still wear a baby brand,” he shot. Tommy Boy looked affronted, caught between defending his shoe preference and insulting Race some more.

“At least I didn’t start in Capezios,” Tommy Boy shot back. Race sputtered in response.

“Boys,” Smalls called in a warning tone before Race could come up with a retort. Sarah and Smalls shared a knowing look that turned into uncontrollable laughter. They were all disasters, honestly, and they got kicks out of being assholes to one another. 

After a few more moments of staring at each other, Tommy Boy and Race went back to what they were doing. Smalls handed Sarah her shoe back and she dug her sewing kit out from her back. Smalls cut her ribbons and burned the ends while Sarah measured out her elastic. They chatted comfortably while Sarah stitched everything into place. They talked about everything from stitching methods and preferences to how their significant others were doing. 

“Hey, Tommy!” Sarah called before throwing a finished shoe over to him. “Have at it.” He sat down and carefully bent the bottom of the shank while Sarah flexed the top quarter. Her shoe gave a loud crunch under Tommy’s hands before he traded it for the other one.

“That’s so satisfyin’,” Race sighed as the other shoe crunched. 

“Nothing better than breaking a new pair of pointes,” Sarah said, sliding on each shoe and pointing her toes. Perfect.

“Nothin’ better than a new pair, period,” Smalls said, pulling out his own pair to put on. “Damn things die too fast, and as soon as ya get ’em the way you like ’em, ya only have another week or two left.”

“At least you don’t go through a pair a month,” Tommy Boy complained. 

“You get two weeks tops,” Sarah said. “Three if you’re careful. And you don’t even break the damn things before you start. You just dance too much.”

“I don’t dance too much!” Tommy cried with mock hurt, putting a hand to his heart dramatically.

“You’re the only person I’ve met that’s usin’ three different pairs of pointe shoes at the same time,” Race deadpanned. “And I talk to a lot of people at competitions.”

Tommy Boy could only stutter. It was the truth, and everyone at the studio knew it. Everyone else at the studio just let their shoes air out during lunch and prayed it wouldn’t be mushy the next day. Sometimes people would wear near-dead shoes in the mornings if they needed to get them to last a bit longer. Tommy, on the other hand, was famous for his pre and post-lunch shoes. One pair for barre and warm-ups in the morning, one for barre and warm-ups in the afternoon, and one for everything else. 

“I always have a pair that’s perfect for what we’re doin’,” he defended, accent getting thicker with embarrassment. Race smirked, a clear sign that he was getting ready to egg him on, while Smalls rolled his eyes.

“How’s about we stop criticizin’ Tommy’s pointe shoe preferences and actually dance, yeah?” He said, standing up and shoving his stuff tighter against the mirror. Sarah followed suit, rising up to pointe experimentally.

“Good?” Tommy Boy asked warily. He was terrified the first time Sarah asked him to break her shoes and he hadn’t got much better since. He was always afraid he would break the shoe completely and kill it before she ever got the chance to dance in it. 

“Perfect,” Sarah confirmed with a smile. He relaxed a bit.

“I will never understand ya guys breakin’ the whole damn shoe.”

“That’s ’cause you’re arches suck,” Race teased. Sarah learned pretty on in her time at Pulitzer’s High School for the Performing Arts that Race was gifted with a full ballerina body. From the figure to the perfectly flexible and strong feet, he had it all. Not to say he didn’t work hard for what he had, but most girls would kill for it.

“Not all of us are born as lucky,” Smalls reminded him in a warning tone. Race visibly backed down a bit. “We didn’t all get your banana feet.” 

Race blushed and popped one foot to pointe, watching in the mirror as he added weight. His arches were beautiful. Sarah had been stretching her feet for years, and she wasn’t even close. Realistically, she never would be. 

“Race’s had enough of an ego boost,” Tommy said. “Let’s get going.” 

In all reality, they didn’t have to do a group barre work out as Sarah worked her new shoes, but she appreciated it. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one suffering through Tommy’s painstakingly slow roll throughs and releve sets. They were ideal for strength and flexibility, sure, but Sarah was convinced Tommy stopped feeling pain in his feet years ago. It was the only explanation for how he could get through all of it without even a flinch.

“Are ya tryin’ to kill us, Tommy?” Race whined, stepping on his foot to try and relieve some of the pain in his toes. Sarah did the same, sighing as the pressure pushed the pain away.

“Seriously,” Smalls huffed. “I would like to be able to walk tomorrow if ya don’t mind.”

“Well then you’re gonna hate for me for what I’m makin’ ya do next,” Tommy said, a bit of a devilish smile creeping across his face. “I think it’s time for Medicine.”

“I swear to _fuckin’_ god dude, I will kill you myself,” Race threatened violently. “I expect this crap from Buttons, not you.”

“You are one sadistic bastard,” Smalls said, shaking his head dejectedly.

“Stop bein’ so dramatic,” Tommy Boy said, rolling his eyes. “Sarah ain’t complainin’.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to do it,” she said. She would rather do anything else. Anything. 

Tommy Boy gave them a look that could usually be found on Buttons’ face. One that clearly said that they would be doing the exercise no matter how much they complained. And sure, they could just refuse, but they knew what would happen. Tommy would tell Buttons, which would mean they would have to do it during company. Possibly multiple times. Because Buttons was a demon wrapped in a sweet, angelic package. 

They all gave Tommy some form of ‘I hate you,’ followed by a fair amount of expletives, before stepping up to the barre to do it. It was painful as hell, but it wasn’t as bad as the last time Sarah remembered doing it. New shoes made one hell of a difference.

About halfway through the set, Tommy Boy’s shoes began to squeak. Sarah smirked to herself. She knew those damn things were all but dead. Hopefully, those dead shoes were causing him pain because he deserved to suffer. She had no sympathy left for him.

“Told you they wouldn’t last much longer,” Sarah said as soon as they finished and the song ended. Tommy shot her a look. She just smirked in response. It was great to be right. 

“So…” Race said. “Am I the only one who wants to do a variation instead of whatever bullshit center work Tommy’s gonna bull outta his ass?” Smalls all but choked on his water, and Sarah laughed out loud. Tommy gave Race a look of complete disappointment, though he clearly wasn’t surprised. Sarah wasn’t either, really. He said the same shit to Buttons. At least he could get away with it when it came to Tommy.

“Whadda ya wanna work on?” Tommy asked, defeated.

“We all know Ms. Jackie’s gonna make us audition for Nutcracker solos with a Sugarplum variation,” Race said. “We got, like, a week let.”

“Yeah, that’s probly a good idea,” Tommy relented, scrolling through his phone to find the song. 

It was six o’clock by the time the group finally left the school. They all piled into Sarah’s tiny ass car on the way to the local diner. Working on the variation had turned into Tommy attempting to choreograph some lift stuff for Mush, which ended up getting everyone involved. Race through an absolute fit when Tommy jokingly suggested lifting him, causing Sarah and Smalls to break into hysterical laughter. Tommy almost dropped Sarah three different times before she gave up and left it up to Smalls, who flat out refused to be picked up. That was about the time Race decided to loudly proclaim that he was hungry.

So that’s how they ended up at the local 24-hour mom and pop diner until nearly midnight, laughing and carrying on without a care in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This is complete and utter nonsense, honestly. It was half written in one of my notebooks so I finished it and this is what happened.
> 
> Have some terms you may not know:  
> Bloch (pronounced like Block) - A pointe shoe brand that's pretty popular. My first pair were Blochs  
> Shank - The sole of a pointe shoe, pretty much (Tommy wearing 'strongs' is just a level of hardness)  
> Darning - Just had to do this to my shoes. It's stitches around the toe of the shoe to help to give you more balance  
> Pirouettes and fouettes - Types of turns. Fouettes are very, very hard  
> Freed of London/Freeds - Another brand of pointe shoes  
> Russians - Russian Pointe, yet another brand of pointe shoe  
> Capezio - Yet another brand, more known for dance apparel other than pointe shoes  
> Releve - A ballet steps where you rise from flat up to your toes  
> Medicine - Something that my teacher (actually named Ms. Jackie) makes us do regularly. (For those ballet people) It's four releves in coupe, passe, attitude, and arabesque on each leg working up and then back down. Actually torture


End file.
